


Tiny Piece of Metal

by OneHundredSuns



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attraction, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Emotions, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2065278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneHundredSuns/pseuds/OneHundredSuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wounds heal. It’s what they leave behind that often has the greatest impact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiny Piece of Metal

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't mean for this to lead into 4.06 but once I got farther into it I realized how perfect it would be so there you go. Spoilers for the Derek/Braeden scene in 4.06.

Tiny Piece of Metal

Braeden knew enough about the supernatural to realize the exact moment a connection had been made between her and Derek. He seemed oblivious throughout it all however; more concerned with getting her to the hospital so that she didn’t bleed out in his arms. She was thankful for the concern and more than a little bit touched since with her choice of employment people didn’t really tend to care whether she lived or died. Apparently the citizens of Beacon Hills were different. Well not all of them but most of the ones she’d come into contact with recently.

She had been shot at before and grazed but this time the bullet found its mark in the form of not even being for her at all. One of those damned assassins popped up out of nowhere while they were searching some old warehouse for the rest of Satomi’s pack and before she or Derek could react he had fired. The bullet—sleek gold with a pointed tip—barreled through the air and struck Derek in his right shoulder before working its way out of his back and hitting her next. Thankfully it was also a clean through and through but it stung something fierce when she returned fire, hitting the unnamed man in the chest twice. Unlike him she wasn’t a bum shot.

Even in his half weakened state Derek healed faster than she did and he insisted she get checked out by Scott’s mother because _what if the bullet was poisoned_ and _that is still a lot of blood_. He made valid points and she wasn’t against the emergency room when she didn’t have to be questioned by the cops so she went. But in the back of her mind she knew something was different. She could feel it in her bones, making its way through her blood stream and deep into her cells. It was something one noticed when they’d been hiring themselves out to all matter of things for as long as she had.

For as old and intelligent as he was there were things Derek didn’t know. Species he had never heard of and strange spells that did all manner of things. Mountain ash for example had many uses besides being a barrier and, well, she hadn’t exactly healed from Deucalion’s claws with peroxide alone. But this was old magic. It was the type of thing that wasn’t spoken of because in the wrong hands it could be dangerous. She suspected not even Peter Hale knew about it because if he did surely Scott would be affected already. Or worse someone Scott loved to keep him under control.

Anyway she was patched up and released without question because to Melissa McCall a gunshot wound was nothing.

Derek drove her back to her hotel with apologies and she told him not to sweat it. They would search for Satomi another time. She’d been tempted to invite him in but ended up thinking better about it. Sex would only complicate their already screwed up situation. The less contact the better…or so she thought.

A week later and they were sulking around in some abandoned apartment complex together when the air changed and started to smell like rotting corpses. It’s so strong than even Derek was able to pick up on it. She almost expected to find a trove of bodies piled high but instead a deep nonhuman growl cut through the quiet, rattling what scarce windows were left. At the end of a long hallway a lone figure appeared with footsteps so heavy they echoed. The body was painted black, the shoulders and back adorned with old bones and feathers. The face covered with the skull of some animal.

She glanced at Derek to see if he realized what they were dealing with and by the look on his face he knew. Berserkers. 

Seeing one bathed in the moonlight and not the shadow of the Aztec temple had her heart beating wildly in her chest. From what she’d read up on them they fancied themselves protectors of the jaguar gods and fought without thought or fear of death. As an ally they were unstoppable and as an enemy they were unbeatable. And try as she might she couldn’t choke down the fear that shot through her body at the sight of one. But to her being scared wasn’t something to be ashamed of and anyone who claimed to not be afraid of something was a damned liar.

Besides fear didn’t stop her from raising her gun like she’d done in the caves or stepping in front of Derek who she decided needed her protection much more than Scott had at the time. Derek’s eyes were yellow and his face was transformed but he didn’t look confident about his chance of beating it and she didn’t blame him. Only Scott’s Alpha roar had saved them the first time and they probably didn’t give a fuck about such things anymore.

Yet when the creature flexed and tightened its hand around its curled blade, her finger trembled on the trigger and Derek jolted like he’d been shocked. She could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head but neither had time for a breath though; the Berserker charged and she fired. She hit it several times and it kept coming, absorbing the rounds like it didn’t feel pain. Or if it did like it just didn’t give a shit.

It swung out with its knife and she ducked, kicking it hard in the stomach which had no effect at all. Derek slashed at it with his claws and was thrown through a wall for his trouble, sliding on his back and covered in broken plaster towards a disused elevator. Braeden tossed herself against the wall and fired again, this time directly in the thing’s face. It howled—probably blinded—and she crawled through the hole Derek had made as quick as she could. She ran over to him and helped him up, forcing the butt of her rifle into the small break in the elevator doors and pushing with everything that she had. It wasn’t much, what with her throbbing shoulder but Derek was a fast learner and he helped her. 

Between the two of them they got it open and fell inside. Braeden’s dark eyes lifted just in time to see the Berserker rush them at full speed, grunting with the effort it took to move its heavy body from place to place. She thrust her gun into Derek’s hands and pulled her little secret out of her coat pocket, ripping the pin out with her teeth and hurling it through the open doors. Derek grabbed her around the waist and pushed her up against the wall, covering her body with his as the grenade went off with a loud _boom_. 

The explosion was so powerful it demolished the floor they were on and sent the elevator cab hurling towards the ground floor at break neck speed, the heat almost impossible to withstand. They both would have slammed against the ceiling had it not been for Derek’s claws curved into the twisted metal holding him in place and her legs wrapped around his waist holding _her_ onto _him_. It was a rather intimate way to seek protection considering how they were lined up but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Not that Derek appeared to mind. When her heels hooked behind his thighs for extra grip he just pressed closer and stole the little bit of fresh air that remained.

The cab hit the ground with enough force that most likely would have killed a normal person but for them it just rattled their bones, though she knew quite clearly if it hadn’t been for Derek she would have died. There was dust and smoke everywhere along with the sound of burning wood. The doors were bent outward from the force of their landing and easy to get through even as the ceiling started to slowly cave under the pressure of flaming floorboards.

Derek and Braeden ran through falling ashes and outside to where his vehicle was parked. As she climbed into the passenger side she couldn’t help but look back to see if the Berserker was dead. Even though all she saw was flames licking up the side of the building she got the distinct impression it wasn’t. 

They would never get that lucky.

Resting her head back to the seat as Derek drove, she exhaled and smoothed a hand across her face. She felt dirty and sweaty but she was alive so she wasn’t going to complain. “Are you okay?”

Derek cut his green eyes at her. “Yeah.” His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. “You carry grenades now?”

She smiled. “Girl never knows when she’s going to need another accessory. Especially in this town.”

His mouth twitched in something like a grin before he was serious again. “You were scared.”

She arched a brow. “Well we were going up against a giant man beast with bones for a shirt. Only an idiot would not be scared.”

Derek nodded. “No but—I _felt_ your fear. It was like something passed through me and I felt it.”

Braeden turned her attention out the window. “I thought your senses were fading away?”

He shrugged. “This wasn’t something werewolf oriented. I’ve never experienced it before. I can smell fear because of the body’s chemicals but this was different.” He looked at her. “And I think you know what is it.”

Absently she chewed on her full bottom lip. “I know lots of things. Right now I know you’re not ready for the answers you’re seeking. You’ve got enough on your plate without worrying about added weirdness.”

Sighing, he pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine. “Why don’t you let me decide that for myself? You’ve been helping me all this time. Granted I paid you but it just seems like you’re going above and beyond. I know you’re not that hard up for cash when you can afford Italian boots.”

Well, he had her there. Charging what she did for services rendered helped keep her in the lifestyle she was accustomed to but it also helped her family back home. However that was no one’s business but hers. “It’s called _canción en la sangre_. It means blood song. Ever heard of it?” She wasn’t surprised when Derek shook his head no. “Back in the old days before electricity and such werewolves used to have human companions that they put in positions of power to keep them abreast of things going on in the human world. And to smooth any ruffled feathers if someone was accidentally bit or killed.”

His brows narrowed into a frown. “I don’t get it.”

She chuckled. “Sometimes they used these humans to infiltrate a hunters circle like a spy. It was dangerous. Back then someone would be put to death if they were discovered playing for both teams. Most times the wolf used someone they trusted so there was emotion there. They didn’t want this human hurt so…” A beat. “So they figured out a way to always know when the human was in trouble. Give the person some of their blood and it would create a link. The wolf would feel whenever the person was scared and know to go help them.” _Or expect to never see them again._

Derek’s expression turned calculating as he pieced together her explanation. “The bullet. It went through me and into you.”

Bingo. “Got it on the first try, I’m impressed. We were in a heightened state of emotion when that asshole shot you. I always thought _canción en la sangre_ didn’t exist anymore but I suppose the practice of it just died out. Just a lost part of werewolf history brought back again by a tiny piece of metal.”

He pressed his lips together. “So I will know whenever you’re scared?”

“As long as you’re a wolf, yes. I don’t think it will hinder anything though and you can ignore it whenever it happens.”

“Here I thought you weren’t scared of anything.”

His voice was teasing and it made her snicker. “I’m usually paid not to be.”

Derek hummed. “I don’t think it’s the worst thing to have considering what we are going through right now. I’d hate for something to happen to you while you’re off helping me.”

She wanted to remind him that he was paying her to take major risks but she didn’t. There was no need. “I don’t expect you to come running every time you get the shiver. Besides sometimes I’ll probably be hundreds of miles away. So you see it’s better if you just pretend it doesn’t exist.”

Derek slouched. “Better for whom?”

It wasn’t a question that had an easy answer as far as she was concerned. She wasn’t blind; there was an obvious attraction between her and Derek that had the power to spiral out of control. As bad as it sounded he was kinda her type, all damaged and noble. People assumed because she was a mercenary she was all about killing things and if the money was good she didn’t hesitate. But surprisingly all of the things she was paid to hunt deserved hunting. And sometimes she played bodyguard so it wasn’t as cut and dry as the word _mercenary_ made it seem. She had feelings and emotions, and she wasn’t above getting in too deep because of a pair of sad eyes and a charming smile.

Or in Scott’s case his unshakable ability to always want to save everyone.

“Just better.” She replied vaguely.

Derek didn’t say anything else and the rest of their ride was in silence that was neither comfortable or tension filled. He was clearly thinking and she; well she wasn’t certain what she was.

About fifteen minutes later Derek pulled into a parking space right in front of her hotel door and turned the truck off. Braeden rolled her shoulder with a wince, hand on the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”

He tilted his head to the side. “You gonna be okay?”

She grinned at him. “I think so. Believe it or not I’ve had worse than a gunshot wound.” Lightly she brushed her fingers along her scars. “It’s all in the placement.”

His eyes dropped to the marks. “I guess it’s a miracle you survived.”

One thing Braeden liked about Derek—something she’d noticed in their first meeting when she had saved him and Peter—was that he hadn’t made a big deal about her scars. He hadn’t stared or mentioned them like Peter, clearly with the intention of somehow shaming her of course. He had just raked his eyes over her the same way she did him in a sort of _I like what I see_ sort of way but without any of the judgment some people possessed. Or the pity.

Running a hand through her long black hair, she tucked a few thick strands behind her ear. “It wasn’t exactly a kill shot but he wanted to make a statement. That he was an asshole.”

Derek laughed. “As asshole that respected your prowess enough to hire you to rescue me. That happens a lot with your old enemies.”

Opening the door, she slipped out. “It’s just business. I’m good at what I do and people realize that. When you need the best you tend to put aside old rivalries.”

He agreed. “Can I check you out for my own peace of mind?”

And if _that_ didn’t sound like a line. “If you wanted to get me out of my shirt again you should have just said so.” Winking, she fished her keys out of her pocket and slowly opened her door with the sounds of Derek following her.

Once inside she flicked on the light and toed off her boots, dropping her jacket on to the edge of the bed. The bandage covering the hole in her shoulder was spotted with blood so she slowly removed it, throwing it in the trash. What a nice gift for the cleaning crew to find later. She opened her makeup bag on the bedside table and took out a tiny tin with a white salve inside.

Derek took the chance of sitting down beside her. “What’s that?”

She handed it to him as she pushed down the strap of her tank top. “A special sort of cream Marin cooked up to help me heal quicker. She felt really bad about the whole nearly getting my throat ripped out thing.”

He snorted. “She should feel worse since she was working with the Alpha pack the entire time.” Sniffing the ointment, he dipped a finger inside and slicked it carefully onto her injury. “You can’t play both sides when it comes to psychos.”

Braeden watched him. “I think she realized that right before he stabbed her.” Derek chuckled without actually making a sound. “You know you didn’t have to do this.”

A tiny crease formed between his brows. “I know. I don’t mind though. Beats sitting at home listening to Peter whine about possibly having to get a real job.”

Amused, she clicked her tongue. “If you need some extra cash you can come work with me. I could teach you the trade. You don’t have to be super powered to handle a gun.”

“Are you patient enough for that?”

“You’re a fast learner so it wouldn’t be that hard.”

“We’ll see.” He said which honestly surprised her.

The idea of taking Derek to the gun range and teaching him to shoot excited her more than she thought it would. But she wanted him to be able to take care of himself. Seeing him de-aged to a teenager and the vulnerable look on his face reminded her of a time when she wasn’t strong enough to fight so she knew how important it was for someone like him. Someone that had been pushed around by life for a long time yet still somehow managed to get back up after being knocked down repeatedly.

He’d been thrown through a wall earlier tonight and yet he was more concerned with her welfare. The thought of having someone to help watch her back was enticing. And nerve wracking.

“Think that is enough?” He inquired after a few gooey swipes. “It looks better already.”

“Feels better too.” She admitted, prying open a new bandage.

Taking it from her, he curved it over her shoulder bone so that it covered the entire wound and would stay in place. His long slender fingers brushed her soft skin, the palm of his hand pressed down almost over her heart. As he held it for a few seconds his thumb swept back and forth close to one of her scars. She kinda got the feeling he wanted to touch it and she found that she wasn’t against it. Though it would be sort of intimate, just because.

Licking her lips, she gestured to them. “You can touch them if you want. They don’t bite.”

Derek searched her face for distress but found none. Gently he traced the raised center line from the side of her cheek down along the middle of her throat. Either one should have killed her but this one should have severed her vocal chords. She wondered if Derek was thinking the same thing; his expression was blank but just like their previous meetings his eyes gave him away. There was a little bit of aw there swimming in the respect.

As it was she hadn’t been touched so carefully in a long time and the soft tripping his fingertips caused her brown skin to flush warm. Heat pooled low in her stomach and she didn’t have to speculate whether Derek realized anything because the sharp inhale he took told her the answer was yes. Their eyes met and she knew how insanely easy it would be to close the space between them and kiss him. To just say fuck everything else and have tonight to do whatever they wanted.

And she was tempted, lord was she tempted. By the look on Derek’s face and how close he was, leaning into her personal space smelling of cologne and ash he was also very tempted. But now wasn’t the time. Not when she had a hole in her shoulder and was still working for him. She could be professional. Besides it wouldn’t help the whole blood song situation and they needed to know more about that before—well just _before_.

So she smiled and kissed his cheek instead, letting her lips linger and be tickled by his scruff. When she pulled back Derek looked pleased.

He left ten minutes later and she had a feeling their _whatever_ was just beginning.

o~o

Within the next few days Braeden did whatever she could to damper the feelings of the blood song on Derek’s end. He was already stressed enough about what Kate had stolen from him, the last thing he needed was to worry about what she was getting up to while attempting to find him answers. So she took to looking for Satomi and her pack by herself. However that meant ending up in a few sticky situations that had her heart rate higher than usual. Or that had her running for her life from some trigger happy nut job.

When she was calm again and safe she would always see a single message on her phone; _Everything okay?_

She would always smile and reply with _Just fine._

And then came the night she didn’t.

o~o

Blood loss was a funny thing when you really thought about it. How it could make you dizzy and cold and even hallucinate. Braeden had thought about it idly the moment she had tried to get up and found that the pain was just too much. That her back was already soaked red and even turning over seemed like a chore. The ground was cold beneath her with tiny rocks digging into her skin, and she had watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon and the bright moon take its place. Fog had rolled into the area and as strange as it sounded she hated that it hid the bodies from view. At least when she could look at them she hadn’t felt so completely alone.

She wasn’t sure who had stabbed her since she’d been too busy staring in horror at all of the dead wolves and about to check for survivors. She knew Satomi and had for a while now and it had physically hurt to see her pack reduced to this. But at cursory glance she’d detected Satomi wasn’t among the dead. And then something hot and thin had sliced across her lower back and she was falling to the ground, stumbling over towards a pile of fallen tree branches.

At first she’d attempted to stop the bleeding but quickly found herself growing weak. She glimpsed boots retreating but saw nothing more than the back of a figure disappearing into the brush. She knew enough to know the strike hadn’t meant to kill her instantly which meant whoever or whatever _wanted_ her to suffer. Just like Satomi’s pack had suffered. They probably saw her as a sympathizer or something.

To make matters worse her phone had no reception up here so she couldn’t call for help.

The struggle was to not lose consciousness because if she did she was well and truly fucked. But she could feel it creeping against the edges of her mind, telling her it would be better if she just closed her eyes and was not awake for what happened next. For when a real animal caught her scent and came to finish her off. It was inevitable really; the woods were teeming with real coyotes that would feel lucky to come across such a meal.

Still as she lay there trying to force herself into action she hadn’t felt scared. She was used to keeping a level head in situations like these and her brain was telling her to be rational. That fear wouldn’t help.

Except this time her brain was stupid and fear was totally what she needed. It wasn’t hard to conjure it to the forefront all she had to do was look around. Remember that just a few yards away were about ten to twenty dead wolves leaking poison that could seep into the ground and maybe even infect her. Remember that every howl and every snapping twig could be the thing that finished her off. 

Maybe it wasn’t fair to worry Derek—wherever he was—but she was out of options. Even if he didn’t find her in time at least this way he’d know she didn’t just skip out on helping him. That she had tried but ultimately failed.

She really hated failing.

Braeden didn’t remember passing out but the sound of muted voices slowly brought her back around. The air was wet and smelled horrible and for a brief moment she thought that asshole was back to finish the job. But as the voices continued and no one tried to strangle her she realized it could be hikers finding the mess of corpses, or teenagers come to make out. Either way she tried to make herself known but there was nothing to break and nothing to throw. At best she kicked a stick and lifted a bloody trembling hand, hoping to get someone’s attention.

Their footsteps turned in the opposite direction and a spike of fear so powerful traveled down her spine it took her breath away. They were leaving. _They were leaving._

Suddenly someone was sprinting to kneel by her side and grab her wrist, their free hand strong and grounding on her shoulder. “Hey, hey you’re okay. You’re okay I’ve got you.”

Her eyes fluttered open and Derek’s blurry face came into view. She was relieved but the pain still had her writhing, seeking any type of respite. “You—you found me. Show off.”

He shook his head and slipped his arm under her back. “I _felt_ you. I should have smelled you the minute Malia and I got out of the truck though. We could have left. I felt it earlier and I texted you—I was waiting for you to get back to me. I should have known something was wrong.”

She clutched at his shirt, leaving a bloody handprint. “I don’t care. _You_ found me. I—I’m not worried about specifics.”

“Derek?” It was Malia. “Are you okay?”

“Over here!” He called out.

“Whoa. Hey it’s that girl from Mexico.” Malia replied as she reached them. “Did she poison the pack?”

“No.” Derek said without hesitation. “C’mon help me get her up. We gotta get her to the hospital.”

Apparently enough explanation for her, Malia pulled a groaning Braeden to her feet so that Derek could scoop her up into his arms. “Who did this to you?”

Braeden squeezed her eyes tightly shut to combat the wooziness. “I don’t know. But it’s the same person who poisoned all those wolves.”

Malia huffed and headed back towards the trail. “My plan of running as far away from here as we can is looking better and better. We find one more dead body; I’m kidnapping Stiles and getting the hell out of this town.”

Derek tried to be mindful of Braeden’s slash as he carried her and followed Malia. “You’re going to be okay,” he told her seriously.

The sound of his heartbeat was steady against her ear as her head lolled onto his chest. “I know,” she replied as her fear ebbed away. “I know.”

The End


End file.
